Cutting Red Locks
by Goddess of Destiny
Summary: AoA: She is hot and stoic and apparently has a thing for feral mutants. But Victor isn't too sure he wants Jean Grey if she's still yearning for her husband. Stuck in a bathroom with Jean cutting her hair, they get to find out if they mesh as more than friends. Angst. Smut. Lemon. Victor/Jean. Please review


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Marvel, the X-Men, or the Age of Apocalypse universe

**Author's Note: **So I pretty much love AoA. Everybody's characters in this universe was beautiful and strong... with the exception of Gambit. And maybe Logan a bit. Eh. Anyways, probably my favorite is Victor, though and I've been wanting to do something with him for awhile. Then for whatever reason, Jean woke up in my head. Which she was my first favorite X-Men character but I soon found her contemptible... until the relaunch of AoA in Uncanny X-Force. That Jean I loved! Not really in love with the new AoA series but... meh, whatever.

Anyways, crazy rambling aside, this image popped into my head and I decided to run with it. And since I'm in a mood it turned smutty. So this ended up becoming a smut one shot... but considering it's Victor Creed and a badass Jean Grey it's hard to imagine this being innocent and fuzzy. Nuh uh. Especially not in an Apocalyptic universe.

So enjoy the smut. The pairing is a little whackie, I know, but for the AoA universe I think it really works. I'll stop talking your ear off now...

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The delicate red locks fell onto his fingers before slipping away. Still more rained down and Victor Creed shifted on the bathroom floor, jamming his spine more squarely on the edge of the tub.

"What are ya doin' Red?" he asked, his voice growling more from a lack of use than any animal instinct. He felt too tired, too empty to let the animal slip out. Victor barely felt up to lifting his eyes to the stoically tall psychic woman armed with a pair of scissors.

Her green eyes blazed into the reflection of the mirror, feet spread apart like she really would attack something. Jean Grey was a strong woman but not 'tough' physically by any stretch of the imagination. Everything about her was lean and long, though subtle curves did add to her femininity. With the way she was shearing her hair down, though, she could probably pass off as a boy. A young, delicately featured boy…

Jean dipped forward to give her hair a more piercing look. She looked dark and unforgiving with that grim look on her deep red stained lips and her jaw set firmly. Her uniform covered almost every inch of her exquisite body except for a cut out on her chest. Unlike a lot of women, her bust did not leave a lot of room for cleavage. Or it left too much room, depending on your point of view. Either way, the cropped view still managed to be tantalizing while also taunting. As if Jean bared her chest in a defiant way, screaming to her enemies "That's right, right here. Shoot me, stab me right here if you can!"

Many tried. None could.

Victor was caught momentarily in the fantasy that right here in this cramped bathroom he could. If he really wanted to reach out and rake his claws across the delicate skin, the job would be done before she could blink. Jean wouldn't even be expecting it, trusting him enough to be in the confining space with the feral. And as far as he knew, she no longer even brushed his mind unless they were in a fight.

The woman was probably too trusting of him, finding something akin to her late husband, Weapon-X, in him. Made him soften up a bit more to the woman than he probably should. Something he hadn't really done since his days with Clarice, the girl that had become like the daughter he'd never have. Never could have… Not just in this world but never.

After all, who would want to lay with the Sabretooth just to conceive a child? And then let him help raise the kid… Yeah, that was asking too much of any woman. No matter how brave or strong or trusting…

"What do you think?" Jean broke into his thoughts. Victor blinked back to reality shifting a little to bend his knee and drape his massive forearm over it. "Should I leave it a bit long it front or cut it all the way down."

"What does it matter?" Victor grumbled, cracking his neck. He felt his blond ponytail brush across his shoulder at the action and he quickly reached up to bat it back over. Probably a good time for his own haircut. If Red over there would stop hogging the scissors.

"Well, I want to know what you think," Jean quipped.

The tone of her voice made Victor freeze because it wasn't the sarcastic tone he might have expected to accompany the words. It changed their meaning, making him look at her warily. Jean was still leaning forward over the sink to stare at her reflection. But he gathered this feeling that her eyes were on him even without any physical sign that she was watching. It made him shiver a bit, something he covered up by standing to his full height, towering over the woman.

The small space put him almost directly against Jean's shoulder but she didn't flinch away. Not even as he reached around her and plucked the scissors out of her delicate hands with his own clawed fingers. She was used to these sorts of exchanges now, with the amount of time they travelled together. Food, maps, blankets… all sorts of things got traded between them that there were no longer any second glances or reservations at his mighty hand brushing hers.

There had hardly been any to start with but Jean had been hurt too many times before not to be wary. Just that he was somebody she didn't entirely know… and a man. Her life seemed chock full of men that were using her, hurting her and were leaving her. The one that she trusted more than most, Magneto, something of a father figure and mentor, had left her to Apocalypse's pens. She forgave him but that didn't make the hurt go away.

And of course her husband, the man she loved the most. He had come crashing into the pens and rescued her. At about the time that Jean wasn't sure she wanted to be rescued anymore. She had left him later but still he had come crashing back. Like a hairy, snarling boomerang. He just never stopped coming…

Until he did. There was still no sign of how or why. Victor didn't even know the circumstances of Weapon-X's disappearance. He'd been off in other worlds, other time streams, fixing broken realities. Until he was able to come back here and, in so doing, ended up falling in with Jean.

She warmed to the idea of having another feral watching her back. That was all they ever acted like it was. Jean could handle herself, after all. She was one of the most powerful mutants out there, though without those abilities her fighting left a little to be desired. So Victor watched after her, protected her, even took care of her to the point that she'd let him.

But Victor wasn't to treat her like some fragile doll that needed to be guarded over. There was a subtle difference and a couple of times he strayed over that line. But Jean was quick to snap him back over the line. Out of her personal space.

It clicked in his mind right then and there, hovering behind her with the scissors in his hands. Jean never let them get intimate. Even all the times Victor tried. By trying to talk to her after a nightmare woke her up or trying to cook her something that was her favorite. Jean shot them down. Not in any cruel or cold way. She just kept her distance and reminded Victor he ought to keep his.

Despite her attempts, Victor still considered her a dear friend. It was all he had been trying for all this time and Jean had to know that. After all she was a psychic and he'd never been afraid to let her slip into his mind. The only thing he might be afraid of sharing was the way he felt when he let the animal take control… But he figured it wouldn't be any shocking surprise to her. Weapon-X had been more volatile than him by far.

So what if it wasn't him that she feared getting too close?

"I think," Victor said aloud, even with all of his quiet thoughts filtering through his mind. "That if you're going to cut your hair you ought to keep it even. You missed some spots here, Red."

He began raking his fingers carefully through her shorn hair to find the longer locks, clipping them off. He was no refined barber, but Victor knew how short hair ought to look. Gave himself enough haircuts to be adequate.

But his pulse sped up as he saw Jean smile, eyes falling closed at his gentle touches. Victor hesitated on running his fingers through the next patch, trying to understand this change in Jean. Again, physical closeness wasn't exactly uncommon. But this was definitely something intimate she was allowing to happen. She wasn't putting up walls or waiting for him to step out of place. Instead she was incredibly relaxed, like she could slip into sleep at any second.

Though as he finally did rake his fingers through her hair, Victor smelled that almost electrical scent of her skin buzzing to life, the hair standing on end at the nape of her neck. Without thinking, Victor took in a deep breath, inhaling Jean's scent before quickly snipping the scissors at a clump of hair. He felt heady from the warm almost woodsy scent permeating off of Jean's skin.

She twisted around suddenly, her hips brushing over the front of his legs before she was looking up at him. Her green eyes twinkled and Jean subtlety leaned back, bracing her hands on the edge of the sink.

"What about the front?" Her voice was low and breathy, tempting him to draw nearer. In the fluorescent lighting, Victor could pick out slight glints of gold in her irises.

His very bones aching with control, Victor leaned forward into her supple body. Reaching out toward her face to lightly touch his fingertips over the red hairs framing her forehead and eyes. He felt clumsy with the scissors suddenly, and couldn't bring himself to clip them off. The red highlighted the fieriness of her eyes too much to be taken away.

It wasn't what Jean had in mind after all, jerking forward to place a hot, needy kiss on his rough lips. She did nothing with her hands, only ground into his with her body and lips, saying enough about what she wanted and needed with that alone.

There was something still timid and hesitant deep inside of her. And though Victor's primal urges were loath to pull back, he gently broke the kiss, looking down into her hard face sadly.

"Don't," Jean choked out, her voice thick with rage and tears. "Don't you pity me."

"I'm not," Victor breathed. "This isn't pity. Jeannie, this is selfish."

Her full lips seemed fuller as she pulled them down into a dark frown. Looking at him like he was crazy and the most awful man around. Victor's mouth had gone dry under the force of her stare and he really did feel completely terrible. And not in that monstrous way he normally did, when there was a bloody and dying man at the end of his fingertips, elbow deep in gore.

"You and I have two different definitions of selfish," Jean hissed. The end of her voice snapping as she thrust her hips against his. Victor swallowed a groan at the hardness that had grown in his pants, his groin beginning to ache with need.

Still, he looked over her face pleadingly. Not for the relief his body desired, but for understanding. But Victor had never been very good at words. Only actions. And right now every inch of his body was screaming for the action that felt entirely wrong to his mind. He couldn't take Jean. Couldn't violate her and their relationship like that, even if she was throwing herself at him.

Her fingerless gloved hands flattened out on Victor's chest and he stared down at them before glancing back up. Taking in the vicious glint in Jean's eyes and unsure if he was about to be molested or attacked. She could do either and he wouldn't argue. Instead her fingers clenched over the fabric of his tight shirt and into his iron solid chest.

"All this time with me," Jean murmured, "are you saying you never wanted me?"

"I'm saying you made it real clear we were friends, Red," Victor sighed, weariness creeping back in. "We had common goals, we worked well together, and I didn't get too cozy, so you were safe. Right?"

He huffed a bit in annoyance, at finally admitting aloud what neither of them bothered to before. That any wild sexual desire he might have fancied in the heat of battle had to instantly be shed afterwards. Otherwise Jean would notice and drive him away. Become too murderous and she didn't blink an eyelash. Start roving glances over her body with fanciful thoughts and she started to pull away, darkly distant.

After all, couldn't dare to get close enough to anybody that could hurt her again. Or maybe it was just the fear that Victor Creed couldn't commit enough. After all, the last feral she shacked up with married the poor girl. Was that the kind of unending passion he could conjure up for the red head?

"No!" Jean shouted, her eyes flashing.

And Victor felt some wall crumble down in his head. Felt her familiar psychic fingers delving into his thoughts more earnestly than ever before. For a split second he attempted to pull back, hide away from it. It was a silly instinct that he quickly quieted. Fighting and running would only cause it to hurt and he had no reason to fear Jean.

His only concern was _why_. She'd never pushed into his mind unannounced or uninvited. A whispered word or a shared image from time to time without a warning. But Jean was wriggling past the outer layers of his consciousness, conjuring up an image.

A recent one. The view from sitting on the floor, looking up at Jean and noticing the opening off her uniform. He shot to his feet, reaching out and raking his claws over the skin, not in a violent way but enough to draw a small trickle of blood. Jean moaned a bit, twisting to put her side flush to Victor's chest as he leaned down to lick away the blood, causing Jean's eyes to roll back in her head. Roughly, Victor reached around her back and grasped a breast, kneading it with his full hand. His other hand moved to between her legs, pressing up to her soft core and rubbing vigorously. Jean's lips parted, crying out…

Victor jerked back again, his breathing ragged and chest heaving from the image. "Jeannie, that wasn't me. That was you."

He'd been imagining killing her, for Christ's sake! Not making love to her body like a savage animal… Not that his body hadn't quite enjoyed the sexual play through. But he didn't think it up!

"No," Jean said, her voice low and husky. She moved her hands up his neck to the base of his skull and then back down over his rippled chest to his belt. "That was us."

Instinctively, Victor sniffed, checking her scent for a lie. All he picked up was heavy arousal. His and hers, mixed together in a sweet perfume that was easily muddying his mind. His body quivered, especially as those sweetly soft fingers worked up under his shirt and across his taut stomach. Exploring the dips and rises of his abs and the texture of his battle hardened skin.

"Take me, Victor," Jean murmured, both a plea and a sensual command. "I'm tired of mourning and feeling guilty."

Images played out in his head that weren't his own memories, but hers. Of her making glances toward him as he pulled off his sweat and blood soaked shirt. Noticing his rippling, tanned back, the way it shone with moisture.

A passionate, protective instinct every time a fight might fell him for a moment, leaving Jean alone to fight. She would stand practically right over his body, unwilling to leave him even when the odds tipped against her.

And secret glances when she was supposed to be sleeping, at him sitting close to the fire and the soft way he'd look at her, unaware of her wakefulness.

Her fingers halted once more on his lower stomach, his skin tingling everywhere she'd touched. His head swirling with thoughts and emotions that hadn't been his. But now they felt integrated with his own.

"Take me, I'm yours."

Something snapped in Victor at her quiet words and he crushed Jean's lips under his mouth. Hard and demanding, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues tangled for a moment, fighting for dominance until Victor grabbed her hips, grinding her against him and swallowing her responding moan. Then he delved deeper, tip tracing over the roof of her mouth before pulling out to nibble harshly at her bottom lip.

Jean merely panted, a matching primal blaze apparent in her eyes. All of a sudden her hand was grasped over the hardening bulge in Victor's pants.

"Growl for me," she whispered.

Victor obliged, growling deep in his throat before savagely attacking her neck. Sucking and nipping at the soft skin, marking her as his. She moved her hands around to his back, raking her nails down over the skin to bring about an exquisite pain-with-pleasure feeling. He snarled into her neck, swirling his hot tongue over the mark before moving again to her mouth.

They continued to battle for dominance, something about it pushing him toward an edge. It rankled him that she didn't just submit and Victor looked for some way to break her will power. To bend her to his will.

His fingers found the zipper on the back of her uniform and he tugged it down with satisfaction. Without preamble, he pulled the cloth down from her shoulders to her ankles, leaving her entirely bare before him. Round supple breasts and smooth hips completely open to him.

_Mine_, his mind growled, luxuriating in the view. Of Jean's flushed face as she panted, a slight worry in her eyes. She was barely fighting back.

Part of him knew she wanted to be dominated. But it had to be earned first. Well, he'd fucking earn it alright.

He attacked her lips again, leaving bruising kisses on her mouth while he plunged a finger into her slick opening. He jerked in and out at a fast speed, building moans in Jean's chest. They became so hard, she threw her head back to let them out, her naked body covered in a sweaty sheen. Waves of aroused heat slid off of her, caressing Victor's body as he pounded one and then two fingers into her flesh.

Her sweaty ass slipped back on the edge of the sink as she leaned back, trying to get leverage to buck her hips into his hand. Victor smirked at her weakened state, gasping and whimpering in unrestrained pleasure, unable to move. Completely at his mercy.

He slid out of her opening, eliciting a gasp from Jean that quickly turned into a pleasurable scream as he worked his slicked fingers on her clit. Her throbbing point of pleasure worked delicious shivers through the woman's frame under the friction.

"Victor!" Jean cried out, sweat pouring over her face. "Oh, Victor!"

"Mine, baby," Victor rumbled, leaning forward to lick the contour of her breast. "All mine."

"Yes," she panted, breath hitching as he suckled on a nipple. Pulling hard on the skin with his lip. Letting go and plunging his fingers back into her opening and then sucking again. "God, _yes_!"

She cried out, her body spasming as she came hard onto Victor's hand. Her chest heaved up and down and he backed his head away to look at her glistening body. Her white knuckled hands were gripping on the sink, back arched as her walls tightened on his fingers.

Jean came down from the climax, opening her glazed eyes to look at Victor as he lifted his soaked hand to lick her juices from them. It was tangy and delicious and he growled approvingly before ripping his shirt off.

He leaned over, pressing kisses over her stomach, nipping at the skin just over her mound. Then roughly, he pulled Jean's legs over his shoulders and dipped his mouth to her folds. Only soft hums left Jean at first, as his tongue delved and dipped and tasted of her womanness. But as he sucked on her clit, her fiery arousal sprung up again.

The binding on his hair was ripped lose, Jeans fingers clenching in his golden locks as he sucked her back into heat. By the time she was moaning again, Victor was ready to enter her. Ready to completely claim this dangerous woman as his.

Victor rose back to his feet and his belt flew off telekinetically. He grinned down at it and then up at Jean. "Nice trick, Red."

She smiled mischievously back, an almost demon look in her eyes. Having already come once herself, Jean was ready to coax him over the edge. To have Sabretooth bucking and moaning and roaring his release at her expense. She reached out to undo the button and zipper of his pants, letting his eager organ fall into her hand.

Her coaxing and caressing was subtle and hard all at once. Victor fought with hard moans, keeping them buried in his throat until he was barely breathing. She would stroke him up, then down and then flex her fingers into the base of his shaft before repeating. It was intoxicating, creating an erotic coiling in the pit of his stomach near his groin.

With shaking hands, he grasped her waist, lifting her and leaning back into the door. Jean immediately wrapped her legs around his waist but with unnerving control, Victor kept her from sliding on to him. Not until he'd lowered himself to the floor did he impale her upon his shaft, howling as her warm folds enveloped him.

"Jesus, babe," Victor groaned as Jean started rocking her hips. "So tight… so warm. Mmmm… mine…"

He was grasping her hips to pull her down hard on top of him with every one of his thrusts upwards. His golden eyes watched Jean gasp with every penetration, unable to look away from his gaze despite the pleasure racking her body. Her hips took on a faster, almost frenzied pace that Victor had no problem matching, growling as her felt her thighs clenching down on him.

"Victor, I… I'm…" her high pitched voice sang, eyes fluttering closed as her face tensed.

"Do it," Victor rumbled, rubbing his thumbs over her hip bones, jerking up into her harder and deeper with steady grunts. "Come for me. Come _hard_!"

She gave way to a lilting cry as her orgasm surged through her, clenching around him. Before she could come down from it, Victor had her flat on her back on the tile floor, hand pinned above her head. Their fingers meshed together as he continued to pound, harried and frenzied into her moist core, flesh slapping together and echoing back in the confined room.

Jean's back arched off the floor, her gasping breaths ragged as she kept up with his pace. "Victor, I want you."

The admission brought a haze to Victor's mind and he snarled before pumping one last, hard time, roaring his release. He pulsed wetly into Jean's depths as she moaned in response, a peaceful, contented look spreading across her face.

Finally, Victor collapsed on her bonelessly, feeling their sticky skin rub together. Her hand wriggled from his grip until Jean could wrap her arms around his chest, nuzzling into his neck. Victor swallowed, almost worried as he felt her start to shake. Certain he must have hurt her, that she regretted it already. Especially as he smelled the salty tears rising to the surface of her eyes.

"Jeannie?" Victor asked hoarsely, worry and fear coiling in his belly.

"I love you…" Her words were barely audible but Victor's ear could pick it up. He noticed the slight, desperate grip of her hand on his back and he let out a shaky breath, cradling the usually enduring woman in his arms. Allowing her this chance to be vulnerable and emotional without fear of judgment.

He lifted them up into a half seated position, stuffing his nose in her short hair to breathe deeply of her woodsy scent. "Love you, too," Victor responded gruffly.

His arms tightened around her small frame reflexively. The words meaning more than the possessive feelings he'd shouted during sex. It wormed its way deeper into his chest, a soft, steady glow. That made him human… if only for her.

"Now what do you say you and me get washed up," Victor chuckled, pulling back to see Jean's smile and tuck some hair away from her face.

This red head was his. To the bottom of his soul and back, she was his. And he loved her truly.

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**AN: **Please review! I know reviewing smut can be a little difficult but I'm really trying to work my way back into erotica after over a year hiatus and could really use some opinions. Was it good, was it bad, was it distracting, are you currently writing this review from a cold shower...? Doesn't need to be intensely detailed, I just want basic reactions. Thank you!


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